Cowmen and Rustlers by Edward S. Ellis

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hours, when he showed so much tender sympathy for her and her motherand brother in the depth of their desolation and woe.

"I thank you," he said, with the same manly frankness he had alwaysshown; "I have no desire to appear as a boaster or to make light ofdanger, but one of the truest adages is that it is not the barking dogthat does the biting."

"Don't make the mistake of supposing it is not so in this case," saidWhitney, "and none should know it better than you."

"I do not underestimate the courage of those fellows; they will shrinkat nothing, but there is no more excuse for my running away uponreceiving such a warning than there would be for all the inhabitantsof Wyoming to leave the State at such a command."

"The case is not parallel," was the comment of Fred Whitney.

"Bear in mind that if I stay, as I intend to do, I do not mean to sitdown and wait for those rustlers to pick me off. I count on havingsomething to say and do in the matter; but, friends, I must bid yougood-night."

Brother and sister were astounded. The hour was late, and they hadbeen urging their guest to remain several days with them. He had notconsented, nor had he refused, from which they were confident he wouldstay.

And now he announced his intention of departing at once, riding outinto the night--whither?

They protested, but he replied so earnestly that an urgent necessityexisted that they refrained. He gave no hint of the reason for hisstrange action, and they could not ask it. His fleet mare, whichhad been allowed to graze on the succulent grass at the rear of thebuilding with the other horses, was brought forward and saddled andbridled, and he quickly vaulted upon her back.

"Remember me to your mother; it is not worth while to disturb her; Ihope soon to be with you again."

He leaned over and pressed the hand of Fred Whitney, and then, raisinghis hat with his left hand, extended the right to Jennie.

Fred made an excuse to move away a few paces, for he understood thesituation.

"Good-by," Sterry said in a voice just low enough to reach the dearone, as he pressed the delicate hand which rested so trustingly in hisown.

"Good-by," she answered. "I am sorry you are going."

"So am I, but it is better that I should leave. As I said, I trustsoon to see you again. Do you know why I hope Fred will decide toreturn to the East with you and your mother?"

"I suppose because we shall all be safer there;" and then she added,forgetting her sorrow for the moment, "that is if we do not go skatingto Wolf Glen."

"It is not necessary to remove as far as Maine, but father insiststhat I am wasting time here, when I ought to be home studying myprofession."

"And he is right, Monteith."

"But," he replied in a low voice, "before I go back I want to makesure that you will do the same. There, good-by again."

He replaced his hat, wheeled and dashed across the prairie withoutanother word.

Jennie stood gazing in the direction taken by him for some time afterhe had disappeared in the gloom of the night. Then she turned to speakto her brother, but he had passed within the house. She resumed herseat, knowing he would soon return.

Fifteen minutes and more went by and she was still alone.

Sh! Was she mistaken, or was that the faint sound of a horse's hoofsin the distance?

She turned her head and listened. The murmur of voices, as her brotherand mother talked in low tones, did not disturb her, and the almostinaudible lowing of the cattle on the distant ranges was but a part ofsilence itself.

Hardly a breath of air was stirring, but all knew the eccentric wayin which sound is sometimes carried by it. Suddenly the reports ofrifle-firing were heard, faint but distinct, and lasting severalminutes. Then other and different noises reached her, still faint butclear.

Her power of hearing, like her vision, was exceptionally strong. Itwas that which enabled her to tell that the last sounds were not madeby a single animal, but by several going at a high rate of speed.These, with the reports of rifles, made her certain that the rustlershad attacked Sterry.

Meanwhile the young man found matters exceedingly lively.

The reception of the "warning" through the hands of Fred Whitney wasproof that his enemies knew he was frequently at his house. Theirmessenger had gone thither to deliver it. Young Whitney had slain oneof their number, and though the law-breakers themselves had sufferedthe most, they felt bitter resentment toward the family.

If Sterry remained with them they would have trouble. He was satisfiedthat Larch Cadmus recognized him, as he sat in front of the rancher'shouse, and would not forget to tell it to his comrades, who wouldspeedily make the place a visit. He believed they were likely to do itbefore the rise of the morrow's sun.

If the Whitneys were attacked, his presence would add to the defensivestrength, but such an attack would not be made if he was not there.Desperate and defiant as the rustlers had been, it would be aninjustice to represent them as capable of such wantonness.

He felt, therefore, that it was his duty to leave the ranch withoutdelay, thus removing an element of grave danger. It would have beenhardly wise to make this explanation to them, though he believed Fredsuspected it.

Turning his back, therefore, upon the dearest spot in all the Westto him, he set his mare Queenie on an easy, swift gallop, headingsouthward toward the ranges where the cattle of the Whitneys weregrazing.

Sterry, in one sense, was without a home as long as he remainedin Wyoming or Montana, while in another sense he was the owner ofnumberless dwelling-places or "headquarters." He may be likened to acommercial traveller in a vast and sparsely-settled region, where heis well known and welcomed by the inhabitants.

The ranchmen who knew him--and there were few who did not--were hisfriends, for he was working in their interests. At whichever cabin hedrew rein he was certain of a hospitable reception.

With no clearly defined idea of where he would spend the remaininghours of the night, he turned the nose of Queenie toward the ranges,among the mountain spurs.

Grizzly Weber and Budd Hankinson would stay near the cattle for anindefinite time, and he was debating whether to join them or to rideon to the ranch of Dick Hawkridge, a number of miles to the northeast,when his meditations were broken in upon in the most startling manner.

During those perilous times, the lonely horseman, in a dangerousregion, relies much on his intelligent steed for warning. WhileMonteith Sterry could do a great deal of thinking in the saddle,he was too alert to drop into a brown study that would divert histhoughts from his surroundings.

He was no more than a mile from the Whitney ranch when his marepricked up her ears, gave an almost inaudible whinny, and slightlyslackened her pace.

That meant that she scented danger, and her rider was on the _quivive_.

He tightened the rein and drew her to a full stop. She turned her headto the right and looked steadily in that direction, with her prettyears thrown forward. This meant that whatever impended was coming fromthat point of the compass.

But the keen eyes of Mont Sterry could not penetrate the moonlightsufficiently far to detect anything. He was out of the saddle in atwinkling, and tried a trick learned from the old hunters. He pressedone ear against the ground, which, as all know, is a much betterconductor of sound than the air.

This told the story he anticipated. The faint but distinct clamping ofhorses' hoofs was heard. The number was indefinite, but, somewhat tohis surprise, none of them was running or loping; all were moving on awalk.

The noise was so clear that when he rose to his feet and looked off tothe right he expected to see the animals and their riders, and he wasnot disappointed.

On the outer margin of the field of vision the outlines of severalhorsemen assumed shape. They were approaching, and one of their steedsemitted a whinny, as a salutation to the motionless Queenie, who hadshifted her pose so as to face that point of the compass.

"Sh!" whispered Sterry to her.

But there was no call for the warning; she was too well trained tobetray her master, and remained mute.

But it was inevitable that if the young man could discern the figuresof the approaching horsemen, they must also see him. He leaped intothe saddle and turned away.

He knew instinctively they were rustlers, and he was almost equallycertain they were hunting for him. There were at least three; and,well aware of their character, he was only prudent in shying off, withthe intention of avoiding them altogether.

But they were not the men to be bluffed in that fashion. They were"out" for the inspector, and did not intend that such an opportunityshould slip by unchallenged.

"Hello, pard!" called one of the trio, "where from and where going?"

This was a pointed demand, to which Mont Sterry made an equallypointed response.

"That is my own business; I will attend to it, and you may attend toyours."

All this time he was keeping watch of their movements. Their horseswere still walking, but they were now coming straight toward him. At atouch of the rein Queenie headed directly away, and her gait was aboutthe same. She acted as though she shared the thoughts of her master,who shrank from sending her off on a flying run, as would have beenmore prudent for him to do.

A brave man dislikes to flee, even when his better judgment tells himit is the only wise thing to do.

The night was so still that Sterry plainly heard the words of the menwhen talking to each other in an ordinary conversational tone.

"I believe that's him," said one of them, eagerly.

"It sounded like his voice, but he wouldn't leave the Whitneys at thistime of night when she's there."

"He's too free with his tongue, anyway; we'll make him show up."

"Say, you! hold on a minute. Do you know anything about Mont Sterry?We're looking for him."

"I am Mont Sterry," was the defiant response. "What do you propose todo about it?"

CHAPTER X.

A HOT PURSUIT.

It may be said Mont Sterry answered his own question at the moment ofasking it, for, bringing his Winchester to his shoulder, he let fly atthe rustlers, and then with a word and touch of the spur sent Queeniebounding away with arrowy swiftness.

Unquestionably it was a daring act on his part, but there was wisdomin it. He knew those men were seeking his life, and would shoot him,as they had threatened to do, on sight. When they met, it would be aquestion simply as to which got the drop on the other.

They were preparing to make a rush at him, and while he had no fearof a contest of speed between Queenie and any animal that "worehorse-hair," they were altogether too near at the beginning of thecontest, and the chance of using their rifles was too much againsthim.

The crack of the Winchester accompanying his sharp reply, with thewhistle of the bullet about their heads, gave them a momentary shock,which delayed the pursuit for a few precious seconds.

This was the object of the fugitive, for, while that brief intervalwas thrown away by them, he improved it to the utmost. At such crisesa few rods count immensely, and they were made to count on the side ofMont Sterry.

They were insufficient, however, to take him beyond peril. Men likethose horsemen are quick to recover from a surprise, and it would haveseemed that Sterry was hardly started in his flight when they werespeeding after him. He heard their maledictions and knew that thestruggle for life was on.

Comparatively brief as had been the time spent in the West by Sterry,he had not neglected his education along the lines indispensable tothose following his manner of living. At the moment of giving Queenierein he flung himself forward on her neck, hugging it close anduttering an involuntary prayer that the bullets might pass harmlesslyby him and his horse.

There were enough of the missiles to kill several men, but the chancefor aiming was so poor that even such fine marksmen as the rustlershad little chance. The mare was only dimly discernible, and she, liketheir own horses, was going at full speed.

Had the sun been shining the result must have been widely different.

The encounter with these men was so unexpected and the several changesof direction by Queenie so sudden and unavoidable that Sterry was notgiven a chance to take his bearings. The one object was to get as farfrom them as possible in the quickest time in which it could be done.

When that distance became a safe one it would be soon enough to giveattention to the points of the compass.

Nobly did Queenie do her duty. She had carried her master out of manya peril, and she could be counted on to do it as long as the abilityremained with her. Sterry's anxiety was really more on her accountthan on his own. He knew there was little danger of himself beingstruck by the bullets of the rustlers, who, as I have shown, had nopossible chance of taking any sort of aim, but she was a conspicuoustarget, which it would seem they ought to hit with little difficulty.

Often must a person in the situation of Sterry leave everything to hishorse. He did not seek to guide Queenie, but sat, or rather lay, inthe saddle and on her neck, as she skimmed like a swallow over theundulating prairie.

Strange imaginings were in the brain of the young man during thosefew minutes. He listened to each shot of the Winchesters, and then,instead of feeling any apprehension for himself, waited for thedreaded evidence that his horse had been struck.

The skilful railway engineer, sitting in his cab, with his hand on thethrottle, can discover, on the instant, the slightest disarrangementin the mass of intricate mechanism over which he holds control. Hishighly trained senses enable him to feel it like a flash. So it wasthat Mont Sterry would have detected any injury to his horse asquickly as she herself. No matter if but the abrasion of the skin, thepuncture of the flesh, or the nipping of an ear, she would betray itinvoluntarily.

If she were wounded and should fall, the situation of her rider wouldbe well-nigh hopeless. He could only throw himself behind her body andhave it out with his enemies. Such a defence has been successfullymade many a time by white men against Indians; but Sterry would notbe fighting Crows nor Sioux, but those of his own race and blood, asbrave and skilful as he.

"Thank God!" he murmured, after each shot, as the splendid play of themachinery under him continued without a break or tremor; "she was nothit that time. She is running at her best."

Once his heart stood still, for she seemed to quiver through her body,as if involuntarily shrinking from the prick of a sword.

In his alarm, Sterry rose to an upright posture in the saddle, andleaning to the right and left, and looking forward and behind him,searched for the wound. He hardly expected to see it, for it wouldhave been beyond his sight in any one of a dozen different portions ofthe body.

But if in one of the limbs, it would quickly show in the gait of theanimal.

"No," he murmured, "there is no change of pace; it could not have beenmuch, and it may be she was not hit at all."

The rustlers fired two shots at this moment, when the horseman wasmore of a target than his animal, but he gave no heed to that; it wasshe for whom he felt concern.

A glance backward brought a thrill of hope. The distance between himand his pursuers had perceptibly increased. Queenie was showing herheels to those who dared dispute with her the supremacy of fleetness.She would soon leave them out of sight, unless it should prove she wasdisabled by some of the shots.

All would have gone well but for the appearance of a new danger ofwhich he did not dream.

Suddenly Queenie emitted her faint, familiar whinny, and swerved tothe left. She had scented a new peril.

In the gloom almost directly ahead loomed the figures of otherhorsemen bearing down upon the fugitive. They might be friends, andthey might be enemies, but it would not do to take chances. Withoutan instant's hesitation Sterry wheeled to the left and spoke to hishorse:

"Now, Queenie, do your best."

The mare responded with the same gameness she always showed; but thesituation had suddenly become so grave that Monteith Sterry assuredlywould have been overwhelmed and cut off but for one of the mostextraordinary occurrences that ever came to any person in theextremity of danger.

CHAPTER XI.

A STRANGE DIVERSION.

It was the wonderful sagacity of the little mare which intervened atthis crisis in the fate of her rider.

She was no more than fairly stretched away on a dead run from the newperil when she shot into an arroya or depression in the prairie. Sucha depression suggests the dry bed of a stream through which the watermay not have flowed for years. It is sometimes a few feet only inwidth, and again it may be a number of rods. The rich, alluvial soiloften causes a luxuriant growth of grass, cottonwood or bush, whichaffords the best of grazing and refuge for any one when hard pressedby the enemy.

The arroya into which Queenie plunged had gently sloping sides, andwas perhaps fifty feet wide. The bottom was covered not only withgrass, but with the thin undergrowth to which allusion has been made,and which was so frail in character that it offered no impediment tothe passage of a running horse.

Sterry's expectation was that his mare would shoot across thedepression and up the other bank with the least possible delay; but ofher own accord, and without suggestion from him, she turned abruptlyto the left and dropped to a walk.

He was astounded, and was on the point of speaking impatiently to heras he jerked the bridle-rein, when the occurrence already referred totook place, and made the action of the animal seem like an inspirationor instinct approaching the height of reason.

At the moment she made the sharp turn to the left, another horsemangalloped up the opposite slope and off upon the prairie. By an amazingcoincidence it happened that he was in the arroya, and in the act ofcrossing in the same direction with the fugitive, when the furiousplunge of the mare sent his own bounding up the farther bank.

Sterry caught the situation like a flash. Before Queenie had gone morethan a half-dozen rods he brought her to a standstill. They resembledan equestrian statue, so motionless were they for a full minute.

The converging parties of pursuers could plainly see the secondhorseman speeding away from the other side, and inevitably concludedthat he was the inspector whom they wanted. They were after himhot-footed on the instant.

This man was Ira Inman, a well-known rustler, and the intimate friendof Larch Cadmus. When he saw himself pursued by a half-dozen ofhis friends he reined up, and calmly but wonderingly awaited theirarrival, which took place within the next few seconds.

"Up with your hands! Quick about it, too! You're the man we want!"

"Wal," replied the leader, surveying them with a grin, and paying noheed to their fierce commands, "now that you've got me, what are yougoing to do with me?"

If there ever were a set of dumbfounded men, they were the rustlerswho closed about the leader and recognized him in the moonlight. Theremarks that followed his identification were as ludicrous as theywere vigourous.

The majority believed he had played a trick on them in pretending tobe Mont Sterry, whom all were so anxious to bring down; but therewere one or two who were not satisfied. They knew the voice of theinspector, which in no way resembled the gruff tones of Inman. Then,their leader was not given to practical jokes.

"What set you to hunting me so hard?" he asked, after the first flurrywas over.

"We're looking for Mont Sterry."

"Wal, what made you take me for him? Do I look like him in themoonlight?"

"But you said you were, and fired at us," explained one.

"Fired at you? Said I was that chap? What in the mischief are youdriving at?"

One, who suspected the truth, now interposed.

"We did meet Sterry and hailed him; you must have heard our guns; hedashed into the arroya; we saw you gallop out on t'other side, andtook you for him."

"Ah, I understand it all now," replied Inman; "I had ridden down thereon my way back from a little scout, when a horseman dashed into theslope behind me like a thunderbolt. My horse was so scared that hewent up the other side on the jump, and before I could turn around tofind out what it all meant, you lunkheads came down on me with therequest to oblige you by throwing up my hands, which I will see youhanged before I'll do."

"But where is he? What has become of him?" asked several, lookingaround, as thought they expected to see the young man ride forward andsurrender himself.

"Wal, calling to mind the kind of horse he rides, I should say he isabout a half-mile off by this time, laughing to find out how cleverlyhe has fooled you chaps."

"It looks as if you was in the same boat, Inman," retorted one of thechagrined party.

"I wasn't chasing Sterry."

"He seemed to be chasing you, for you came out of the arroya ahead ofhim."

"If he was chasing me," replied the leader, who felt that the laughwas on his companions, "he would have followed me out; but I don't seeanything of him;" and he, too, stared around, as though not sure theman would not do the improbable thing named.

"It was a blamed cute trick, any way you look at it," remarked one ofthe party. "It was queer that you should have been there, Inman, justat the minute needed. But for that, we would have had him, sure."

"Wal, you can make up your mind that we have him as good as catchedalready. He can't get out of the country without some of the boysrunning against him, and the first rustler that catches sight of Mr.Sterry will drop him in his tracks."

"If he gets the chance to do it," was the wise comment of another."That fellow is quick on the shoot and isn't afraid of any of us."

"He ain't the first one that's made that mistake, only to find himselfrounded up at last. Larch Cadmus' idea of 24 hours' notice don't godown with this crowd, eh?"

And the crowd unanimously responded in the negative.

CHAPTER XII.

THE BACK TRAIL.

Mont Sterry had wisdom enough to turn to the fullest account theremarkable advantage gained through the sagacity of his mare.

His pursuers, in their haste to head him off, had dashed across thearroya at a point only a short distance above where he entered andtheir leader emerged from it. They were sure to discover the truth ina short time.

Waiting, therefore, only until they had passed beyond, he rode hishorse a few rods along the depression, and then left it on the sameside by which he had ridden into it.

Unconsciously he fell into an error of which he was not dreaming. Inthe short distance passed, the arroya made a sweeping curve, and hehad repeatedly changed his own course since leaving the Whitney ranch.Thus it was almost inevitable that he should get the points of thecompass mixed, and that he should follow a route widely different fromthe one intended.

Had he paused long enough to note the position of the full moon in theheavens, or the towering Big Horn Mountains, he would have gained anapproximate idea of where he was; but, despite his experience in theWest, he galloped forward at an easy canter, with never a suspicion ofthe blunder he was making.

He was on the alert for rustlers, and kept glancing to the right andleft, and to the front and rear. As has been shown, he had little fearof being overtaken in a chase where he was given an equal chance withhis pursuers, but his narrow escape rendered him more apprehensivethan usual.

"I thought of staying with Weber and Hankinson to-night," he mused,"but I think it hardly prudent. The rustlers may pay them a visit, andmy presence will only make matters worse; and yet those fellows don'twant to start up a band of regulators who will shoot them down withoutmercy, and that's just what will take place if they carry theiroutrages too far."

"My death won't bring the regulators into existence," he grimlyreflected, "for one man, more or less, doesn't count; but there ismuch bitter feeling in the country."

Once he thought he caught the sounds of horses' feet on the prairie,and checked his mare to listen, but she gave no evidence ofsuspicion--a thing she was sure to do, if the cause existed.

Sterry was so well satisfied by this fact that he did not dismount totest the matter as before. He rode on, however, and held her down to awalk.

His eventless course had continued some minutes before a thought cameto him of the direction he was following, with the possibility that hewas wrong.

"I wonder if we are on the right track, Queenie?" he said, addressinghis animal, as was his custom when they were alone. "It would bestrange if we didn't drift away from our bearings. Hello! that can'tbe Dick Hawkridge's ranch; we haven't gone far enough for that; butwhat the mischief can it be, unless a fire that some one has startedin the open?"

The starlike twinkle of a point of light suddenly shone out directlyin advance. It puzzled him by appearing only for a moment, when itvanished as quickly as it entered his field of vision.

This fact suggested that it was within some dwelling and had beenextinguished, or was shut from sight by being moved past a window oropen door to another point in the interior.

"We are so near, Queenie, we may as well go farther," he added, notunmindful of his danger from those who were making such a hot searchfor him. He kept his horse on a walk, maintaining a keen watch betweenthe dainty ears that were already pricked up as if she knew somethingwas likely to happen quite soon.

Advancing in this deliberate fashion, the outline of one of thoselong, low wooden structures so common in the West was gradually defiedin the moonlight, and he knew he was approaching the home of someranchman.

But whose? was the question that perplexed him. He recalled that someof his travelling had been done at a high rate of speed, but thedistance between the Whitney and Hawkridge ranches was fully a dozenmiles, and he was sure that that space had not been covered by himsince bidding his friends good-by earlier in the evening, especiallyas he had not followed a direct course.

"Can it be?" he exclaimed, with a sudden suspicion. "Yes, by gracious!What a blunder!"

The exclamation was caused by the sight of a young man, with one armin a sling, who came forward to welcome him.

He had returned to the Whitney home, which he supposed was miles away,and this was his old friend Fred, who came smilingly forward and said,as he recognized him:

"I am glad, indeed, to see you, Mont; we heard the sound of the firingand feared that something had happened to you."

"Nothing at all, thank you, and nothing to Queenie--but that remindsme," he added, slipping out of the saddle; "she acted once as thoughshe had been hit, though it wasn't bad enough to show itself in hergait."

The two made a hasty examination but discovered nothing; proof that,as her owner said, the wound, if any, was too slight to trouble her.

"Fred, what do you think of my coming back to you in this fashion?"abruptly asked Sterry, with a laugh, looking around in his friend'sface.

"The most sensible thing you could have done; it redeems yourfoolishness in leaving us as you did."

"But my return was involuntary."

"How was that?"

"I thought I was miles distant, and had no idea of my location until Icaught the outlines of your house; I assure you I contemplated no suchperformance as this."

"Well, you're here, so what's the use of talking unless you mean tomount your mare and try it again."

"Hardly that; I have too much mercy on her."

The couple walked past the dwelling to the rude but roomy shelter atthe rear where the horses were sometimes placed when not in use, orwhen the severity of the weather made the protection necessary. Therethe saddle, bridle and trappings were removed from the mare, and shewas made comfortable. Then the two returned to their seats at thefront of the building, to smoke and chat a few minutes before retiringfor the night.

CHAPTER XIII.

A CONSULTATION.

That mysterious warm-air current known as the Chinook wind stealsthrough the depressions of the Rocky Mountains, at certain seasonsof the year, from the mild surface of the Pacific, and tempers theseverity of the winters in some portions of Montana, Wyoming, andthe great West to a degree that renders them milder than many placesfarther south.

It was early in the month of May, when even in the Middle States it isnot often comfortable to remain seated out of doors after the close ofday, but Sterry and Whitney found it pleasant to occupy their chairsin front of the building, with no other protection then their own warmgarments.

Whitney's wound was doing so well that he expressed himself ashamedto wear his arm in a sling. He freed it from the support, moved itreadily about, and declared that after the next morning he would nolonger shirk duty.

In one sense, Monteith Sterry was disappointed. He hoped they would bejoined by Jennie, from whom he parted earlier in the evening, but hereflected that the hour was late, and she probably felt that her dutywas with her sorrowing mother.

"She belongs there," he concluded, "and I respect her for doing herduty."

But she heard the murmur of voices after they had talked a fewminutes, and appeared at the outer door, where she greeted her friendand listened with an intensity of interest that may be imagined tohis account of his brush with the rustlers. Although she had becomeaccustomed to danger during her life in the West, there could be nomistaking her solicitude for him. She said little, however, and,excusing herself, bade the two good-night.

"I tell you," said her brother, when she was gone, "if you stay, orrather attempt to stay, in this section, Mont, it is suicide--nothingmore nor less."

"Well, I know times are likely to be warm, but, hang it, I can't bearthe thought of being run out of Wyoming. It's a mighty big State, andthere ought to be room enough for me."

"You persist in treating it lightly, but it is no trifling matter;you have been warned; were shot at, when we had our flurry with therustlers; and, even while attempting to ride across the country,had the narrowest escape of your life--an escape so curious that itcouldn't be repeated in a hundred years."

"It's the unexpected that happens."

"Not so often as the expected. Mont, what made you leave us soabruptly to-night?"

"O, I can hardly tell," replied the other, carelessly flinging one legover the other and puffing at his cigar, as though the matter was ofno importance.

"I know; you believed that if you stayed here you would increase theperil to us."

"You've hit it exactly; that was it."

"What sort of friends do you take us to be?"

"That isn't it; rather, what sort of friend would I be, thus knowinglyto place you and your mother and sister in danger? If those rustlersknew where I am, a dozen would be here before sunrise."

"What of it? We are ready for them."

"That's a poor answer to my statement; you had enough of that woefulbusiness yesterday; they hold me in such hatred that they would burndown your place, if they could reach me in no other way."

"And yet you propose to stay in Wyoming and have it out with them?"

"I haven't said that," remarked Sterry, more thoughtfully; "I may soonleave for a more civilized section, much as I hate to play the seemingcoward; but what you said about my parents, brothers and sisters athome, gave me something to think over while riding across the prairieto-night."

"I shall hate to lose your company, for it is like old times totalk over our school days, but I would not be a friend to allow myselfishness to stand in the way of your good."

Sterry smoked a moment in silence, and then flung away his cigar andturned abruptly on his companion.

"Fred, if you could have prevented what took place yesterday bysacrificing every dollar of the property you have in Wyoming, youwould have done it."

"Yes, God knows I would have done it a thousand times over; motherwill never recover from the blow."

"And yet you may be the next to fall during this frightful state ofaffairs. If the situation of your mother and sister is so sad becauseof the loss of the head of the household, what will it be if youshould be taken?"

"I appreciate your kindness, Mont, but you put the case too strongly;in one sense we all stand in danger of sudden death every day. I mightlive to threescore and ten in Wyoming, and be killed in a railroadaccident or some other way the first day I left it. There is noparticular enmity between the rustlers and me; that brush yesterdaywas one of those sudden outbursts that was not premeditated by them."

"It didn't look that way to me."

"You were not there when it opened. They were driving a lot ofmavericks toward their ranch down the river, when Budd Hankinson sawa steer among them with our brand. You know it--a sort of cross withfather's initials. Without asking for its return, Budd called them agang of thieves, cut out the steer and drove him toward our range. Ifhe had gone at the thing in the right way there would have been notrouble, but his ugly words made them mad, and the next thing we wereall shooting at each other."

"You inflicted more harm than they, and they won't forget it."

"I don't want them to forget it," said Fred, bitterly, "but they won'tcarry their enmity to the extent of making an unprovoked attack on meor any of my people."

"Possibly not, but you don't want to bank on the theory."

"You must not forget," continued the practical Whitney, "that all wehave in the world is invested in this business, and it would be asacrifice for us to sell out and move eastward, where I would bewithout any business."

"You could soon make one for yourself."

"Well," said Whitney, thoughtfully, "I will promise to turn it overin my mind; the associations, however, that will always cling to thisplace, and particularly my sympathy for mother and Jennie, will be thestrongest influences actuating me, provided I decide to change."

Mont Sterry experienced a thrill of delight, for he knew that whena man talks in that fashion he is on the point of yielding. Hedetermined to urge the matter upon Jennie, and there was just enoughhope in his heart that the prospect of being on the same side of theMississippi with him would have some slight weight.

"I am glad to hear you speak thus, for it is certain there will beserious trouble with the rustlers."

"All which emphasizes what I said earlier in the evening about yourduty to make a change of location."

The proposition, now that there was reason to believe that FredWhitney had come over to his way of thinking, struck Sterry morefavourably than before. In fact he reflected, with a shudder, what adismal, unattractive section this would be, after the removal of hisfriends.

"I shall not forget your words; what you said has great influence withme, and you need not be surprised if I bid adieu to Wyoming within aweek or a few days."

"It can't be too soon for your own safety, much as we shall regret tolose your company."

CHAPTER XIV.

UNWELCOME CALLERS.

Although Budd Hankinson and Grizzly Weber were removed from the sceneof the events described, the night was not to pass without theirbecoming actors in some stirring incidents.

Ordinarily they would have spent the hours of darkness at the ranch oftheir employer, for the immense herds of cattle, as a rule, requiredno looking after. The ranges over which they grazed were so extensivethat they were left to themselves, sometimes wandering for many milesfrom the home of their owner. They might not be seen for days andweeks. Their brands and the universal respect in which such proof ofproprietorship was held prevented, as a rule, serious loss to theowners.

But the date will be recognized by the reader as one of a peculiarlydelicate nature, when men were obliged to look more closely aftertheir rights than usual.

The couple, therefore, rode behind the cattle to the foothills, alongwhich they were expected to graze for an indefinite time. Hustlerswere abroad, and the occurrences of the previous day had inflamed thefeeling between them and the cowmen. It was not unlikely that, havingbeen beaten off, some of them might take the means of revengingthemselves by stealing a portion of the herd.

Budd and Weber dismounted after reaching the foothills, and, withoutremoving the saddles from their horses, turned them loose to graze forthemselves. No fear of their wandering beyond recall. A signal wouldbring them back the moment needed.

The hardy ranchers seated themselves with their backs against a broad,flat rock, which rose several feet above their heads. The bits wereslipped from the mouths of their horses, so as to allow them to cropthe succulent grass more freely, while the men gave them no attention,even when they gradually wandered beyond sight in the gloom.

"Times are getting lively in these parts," remarked Weber, as hefilled his brierwood and lit it; "this thing can't go on forever; therustlers or cowmen have got to come out on top, and I'm shot if onecan tell just now which it will be."

"There can only be one ending," quietly replied his companion, whosepipe, being already lit, was puffed with the deliberate enjoyment of aveteran; "the rustlers may stir things up, and I s'pose they've got toget worse before they get better, but what's the use? It's like a mobor a riot; the scamps have things their own way at first, but theyknuckle under in the end."

"I guess you're right; that was bad business yesterday; I shouldn'twonder if it ended in the young folks moving East again with theirmother, whose heart is broke by the death of her husband."

"The younker is too plucky a chap to light out 'cause the governor hasbeen sent under; he's had better luck than most tenderfeet who comeout here and start in the cattle bus'ness; he done well last year, andif the rustlers let him alone, he'll do a good deal better this year;he may move, but he ain't agoin' to let them chaps hurry him, you canmake up your mind to that."

The couple smoked a minute or two in silence. Then Weber, withoutremoving his pipe from between his lips, uttered the words:

"Budd, something's going to happen powerful soon."

Hankinson, also keeping his pipe between his lips, turned his head andlooked wonderingly at his friend. He did not speak, but the actiontold his curiosity; he did not understand the words.

"I mean what I say," added Weber, shaking his head; "I know it."

"What do you mean? Something happens every night and every day."

"That isn't what I'm driving at; something's going to happen aforedaylight; you and me ain't through with this work."

Hankinson was still dissatisfied. He took his pipe from his mouth,and, looking sideways at his friend, asked:

"Can't you come down to facts and let a fellow know what you'redriving at?"

"I don't exactly know myself, but I feel it in my left leg."

At this strange remark the other laughed heartily and silently. He hadlittle patience with superstition. He knew his friend held peculiarwhims in that respect. Weber expected something in the nature ofscoffing and was prepared for it. He spoke doggedly:

"It has never deceived me. Six years ago, when we was trying to roundup Geronimo and his Apache imps, ten of us camped in the MoggollonMountains. Hot! Well, you never knowed anything like it. All day longthe metal of our guns would blister our naked hands; we didn't get adrop of water from sunup till sundown; we was close on to the trail ofthe varmints, and we kept at it by moonlight till our horses gave outand we tumbled out among the rocks so used up that we could hardlystand. Our lieutenant was a bright young chap from South Car'lina thathad come out of West Point only that summer, but he was true blue andwarn't afeared of anything. We all liked him. I had seen him fightwhen a dozen of the Apaches thought they had us foul, and I was proudof him. He belonged to a good family, though that didn't make him anybetter than anyone else, but he treated us white.

"So when we went into camp, I goes to him and I says, says I,'Lieutenant, there's going to be trouble.' He looked up at me in hispleasant way and asks, 'What makes you think so, Grizzly?' The otherswas listening, but I didn't mind that, and out with it. ''Cause,' saysI, 'my left leg tells me so.'

"'And how does your leg tell you?' he asked again, with just a faintsmile that wasn't anything like the snickers and guffaws of the otherchaps. 'Whenever a twitch begins at the knee and runs down to myankle,' says I, 'that is in the left leg, and then keeps darting backand forth and up and down, just as though some one was pricking itwith a needle, do you know what it says?'

"'I'm sure I don't, but I'd like to know.'

"'Injins! Varmints! They're nigh you; look out!'

"Wal, instead of j'ining the others in laughing at me, he says; justas earnest-like as if it was the colonel that had spoke, 'If that'sthe case, Grizzly, why we'll look out; you have been in this businessafore I was born and I am glad you told me. I didn't s'pose any of 'emwas within miles of us, but it's easy to be mistaken.'

"Wal, to make a long story short we didn't any of us go to sleep; theboys laughed at what I said, but the way the lieutenant acted showed'em he believed me, and that was enough. The Apaches come down on usthat night and wiped out two of the boys. If the lieutenant hadn'tshowed his good sense by believing what I told him, there wouldn'thave been one of us left."

Budd Hankinson then crossed his legs, extended on the ground as theywere, shoved his sombrero back on his head, with his Winchesterresting against the rock behind him, and smoked his pipe after themanner of a man who is pondering a puzzling question. The latterassumed much the same position, but, having said sufficient, was notdisposed to speak until after the other had given his opinion.

"Grizzly, when your leg warns you like that, does it speak plainenough to tell you the sort of danger that's coming? Does it say whathour; where the trouble is to come from, and who them that make thetrouble will be?"

"How could it do anything 'cept help tote him around when he wanted itto?"

"I've just explained, that twitching is a warning--that's all. I'spose the leg thinks that's enough; so it is."

"There ain't any Apaches or Comanches in this part of the world."

"But there's rustlers, and where's the ch'ice?"

"Wal, Grizzly, all I've got to say is let 'em come; it ain't thefirst time we've seen 'em, and we're ginerally ready for 'em. We wasyesterday, and I reckon we'll get there, all the same, to-night orto-morrow morning."

Grizzly Weber felt it his duty to be more explicit.

"The night I was telling you about down in Arizona wasn't the onlytime my leg signaled to me. While it allers means that something isgoing to come, it doesn't always mean it'll amount to much. It hashappened that only a slight flurry follored. That may be the caseto-night."

"What's to be done? Are we to set here on the ground and wait for it?I was going to take turns with you watching, but I guess we hadn'tbetter go to sleep yet."

"You can sleep till near morning if you like, and when I want to laydown I'll wake you, but afore you do that I'll take a look around."

Weber rose to his feet, yawned, stretched his long, muscular arms,looked about him and listened. The moonlight enabled him to see only acomparatively short distance in any direction. Near-by were the formsof several cattle stretched upon the ground and sleeping. One or twowere still chewing their cuds, but the scene was suggestive of restand quiet, the reverse of what he told his friend was coming.

The horses had drifted too far off to be visible, but it was certainthey were within signal distance. Rocks, stunted undergrowth, bushes,and the rich, luxuriant grass met the eye everywhere. Thousands ofcattle were scattered over an area of many acres, and, unless molestedby dishonest persons, would be within ready reach when the time forthe round-up arrived. Neither eye nor ear could detect anything of theperil which the rancher believed impended with the same faith that hebelieved the sun would rise on the following morning.

That faith could not be shaken by the profound quiet. Without speakingagain to his friend he strolled toward the north, that is parallelwith the spur along whose slope the cattle were grazing. As he movedforward they were continually in sight. Most of them were lying onthe ground, but a few were on their feet, browsing and acquiring theluscious plumpness which has made that section one of the most famousgrazing regions of the Union. They paid no attention to the rancherwhile making his way around, among and past them. They were tooaccustomed to the sight of the sturdy cattleman to be disturbed byhim.

An eighth of a mile from the rock where he had left his comrade, Weberonce more paused. Nothing as yet had come to confirm that peculiarwarning described, but his faith knew no weakening on that account.

From a long way came the sound of rifle-firing, sometimes rapid, andsometimes consisting of dropping shots.

"They're at it somewhere," muttered the rancher; "it doesn't come fromthe ranch, so I guess the folks are all right."

The reports were too far off for him to feel any interest in them;that which was foretold by the twitching of his limb must come muchcloser to answer the demands of the occasion.

Weber resumed his walk around and among the prostrate animals. He wason the alert, glancing to the right and left, and speculating as tothe nature of the "trouble" that could not be far off.

Through the impressive stillness he caught a subdued sound whichcaused him again to stop in his walk and listen. His keen vision coulddiscover nothing, nor was he certain of the nature of the disturbance.

He knelt down and pressed his ear to the ground. That told the story;several hundred of the herd were in motion and moving away from him.They would not do this of their own accord, and the rancher translatedits meaning at once; they were being driven off.

He broke into a loping trot toward the threatened point, holding hisWinchester ready for instant use. As he was likely to need his horse,he placed his fingers between his lips and emitted the whistle bywhich he was accustomed to summon the faithful beast. Then he sent outa different call. That was for the listening ears of Budd Hankinson,who would be sure to hasten to his comrade.

But Weber did not wait for man or animal. They could come as fast asthey chose. The case was too urgent to admit of delay.

He believed the moving cattle were hardly a furlong distant, but theywere not only going at a rapid pace, but were moving directly awayfrom where the rancher had halted.

He could run as swiftly and as long as an Indian, but the course wasdifficult, and he believed the cattle were going so fast that he wasgaining little if anything on them. When he had run a short way hestopped and glanced impatiently back in the gloom.

"Why doesn't Cap hurry?" he muttered, referring to his horse; "he musthave heard my call, and he never lets it pass him. Budd, too, don'twant to break his neck trying to overtake me."

His impatience made him unjust. Neither man nor beast had had time tocome up, even though each had set out at their best speed the momentthey heard the signal. They would be on hand in due course, unlessprevented.

Weber called them again, with a sharp, peremptory signal, which couldnot fail to apprise both of the urgency of the case. Then, afraid oflosing any advantage, he pushed after the fleeing cattle. The figuresof the sleeping animals around him grew fewer in number. By and bynone was to be seen. He had passed the outer boundary of those thatwere left, and was now tramping over the section from which they hadbeen stampeded or driven by the rustlers.

He dropped to the ground again. But it was only to use the earth as amedium of hearing. The multitudinous trampings became distinct oncemore. The cattle were running, proof that the thieves were pressingthem hard and were in fear of pursuit.

Leaping up again, the rancher peered backward in the moonlight.Something took shape, and he identified the figure of a manapproaching. The Winchester was grasped and half aimed, so as to beready for instant use.

But it was his friend, who was coming on the run. Budd Hankinson hadheard the call, and obeyed it with surprising promptness.

"What's up?" he asked, as he halted, breathing not a whit fasterbecause of his unusual exertion.

"They're running off some of the cattle; where's the hosses?"

"Hanged if I know! I called to Dick the minute I started, but hedidn't show up; I don't know were he is."

"I whistled for Cap at the same time I did for you; he ought tobe here first. I wonder if they've stolen him?" added Weber,affrightedly.

"No, they wouldn't have come that close; they didn't have the chance;but it gets me."

With that he sent out the signal once more. Budd did the same, andthen they broke into their swift, loping trot after the fleeinganimals, both in an ugly mood.

They were at great disadvantage without their own horses when it wasclear the rustlers were mounted. But, though on foot, the rancherscould travel faster than the gait to which the cattle had been forced.They increased their speed, and it was quickly evident they weregaining on the rogues.

It was not long before they discerned the dark bodies galloping off inalarm. Almost at the same moment the ranchers saw the outlines oftwo horsemen riding from right to left, and goading the cattle to aninjuriously high pace. Grizzly Weber, who was slightly in advance,turned his head and said, in excitement:

"Budd, they're not rustlers; they're Injins!"

CHAPTER XV.

THE "DOG INDIANS."

Weber was right in his declaration that the parties who werestampeding a part of the herd were Indians. They were two in number,both superbly mounted, and dashing back and forth with greatswiftness, as they urged the animals to a frantic flight. They knewthe danger of pursuit and the value of time.

The rancher, who shouted to his companion, was a few paces in advanceat the exciting moment he made the discovery. The sight so angered himthat he stopped abruptly and brought his rifle to his shoulder, withthe intention of shooting the marauder from his horse.

This would have been done the next instant but for the exclamation ofGrizzly Weber. Despite the noise and confusion, the Indian heard himand saw his danger. Before the rancher could sight his weapon thethief seemed to plunge headlong over the further side of his steed;but instead of doing so he resorted to the common trick of his people,all of whom are unsurpassable horsemen. He flung himself so far overthat nothing of his body remained visible. The horse himself becamethe shield between him and the white man. The redskin was in thesaddle, but he would have been just as expert had he been ridingbareback.

Weber muttered his disappointment, but held his rifle ready to firethe instant he caught sight of any part of the fellow's person. At anyrate, a recourse was open to him; he could shoot the horse, and thusplace his enemy on the same footing with himself. He decided to do so.

The hurly-burly was bewildering. The cattle were bellowing inaffright, galloping frenziedly before the two horsemen, dashing backand forth among them at the rear like two lunatics, and goading themto desperate haste.

At the instant the Indian whom Grizzly Weber selected as his maneluded his fatal aim, his horse was running diagonally. This could notbe continued without the abandonment of the herd. He must wheel, tocome back behind the fleeing cattle. The rancher waited for thatmoment, prepared to fire the instant any tangible part of the body ofthe rogue was revealed by the moonlight.

But an astonishing exploit prevented the shot. The savage wheeled,just as was anticipated, but, in the act of doing so, threw himselffor a second time over the side of his horse, so as to interpose hisbody. He did it with such inimitable dexterity that the rancher wasbaffled.

All this took place in a twinkling, as may be said; but, brief aswas the time, it caused Weber to lose valuable ground. The horse wasgrowing dimmer in the gloom, and, unless checked, would quickly bebeyond reach of the Winchester still levelled at him. Nothing waseasier than to drive a bullet through his brain and then have it outwith the Indian. Possibly the single bullet would end the career ofboth.

Budd Hankinson called out something, but Grizzly Weber did not catchit. With grim resolution he sighted as best he could in the moonlightat the galloping steed, and then with a shiver lowered his weaponundischarged, awed by the sudden discovery of the deed he had comewithin a hair of committing.

The erratic motions of the Indian and his horse entangled both withthe flying cattle. All at once the nimble steed became so crowded onevery side that his only escape from being gored to death was by atremendous bound which he made over the back of a terrified steer wholowered his head for the purpose of driving his horns into his body.He made the leap with amazing skill and grace.

As he went up in the air, with the Indian clinging to his side,the astonishing leap was executed with perfect ease, precision andperfectness, his figure rising above the mass of struggling animalsand standing out for a moment in clear relief.

That one glimpse of the outlines of the splendid horse, together withthe brilliancy of the performance itself, told Grizzly Weber thatthe steed was his own Cap. The owner had by a hair escaped sendinga bullet through the brain of the animal whom he loved as his ownbrother.

Grizzly was stupefied for an instant. Then, knowing that Cap had beenduped by some conjuration, he sent out the familiar signal with asharp distinctness that rose above the din and racket, which, toordinary ears, would have been overwhelming.

The result was remarkable, and approached the ridiculous. Cap heardthe call, and instantly turned to obey it. The Indian on his backstrove furiously to prevent and to keep him at his work. Cap foughtsavagely, flinging his head aloft, rearing, plunging, and refusingto follow the direction toward which the redskin twisted his headby sheer strength. It was a strife between rider and steed, and thelatter made no progress in either direction while keeping up thefight, which was as fierce as it was brief.

The Indian could not force the horse to obey him, and the efforts ofCap to reach his master were defeated by the wrenching at the bit. Itlooked as if the horse had been seized with the frenzy that possessedevery one, and was fighting and struggling aimlessly and accomplishingnothing.

But Grizzly Weber was not the one to stand idly by and allow thisextraordinary contest to go on. Nothing intervened between him and thedaring marauder, and he dashed toward him.

The redskin's audacity, nimbleness and self-possession excited theadmiration of Grizzly Weber, angered though he was at the trick playedon him. The rider knew the risk of keeping up the fight with theobdurate beast, for the master was sure to arrive on the spot withina few seconds. Before the rancher could reach him he went from thesaddle as if shot out of a gun.

Freed from his incubus, Cap emitted a joyful whinny and trotted towardhis master.

"You rascal!" exclaimed the delighted rancher, vaulting upon his backin a twinkling. "Now we'll settle with the chap that tried to part youand me."

All this consumed but a few moments. The Indian could not have gonefar. He would not dash among the cattle, who, now that they werestampeded, were as dangerous as so many wild beasts. He had hardlytime to conceal himself, and Grizzly was certain that he had him.

All the same, however, the cowman made a miscalculation. When hewheeled Cap about to run down the daring redskin he was nowhere to beseen. There were no trees near, but there were boulders, rocks anddepressions, with the rich grass everywhere, and the dusky thief wasas safe as if beyond the Assinaboine, in British territory.

"I'm glad of it," thought Weber, a moment later; "a redskin that canshow such a performance as that desarves to save his scalp."

In the dizzying flurry Grizzly had no time to think of his companion,who had enough to attend to his own matters. He now looked around forhim, but he, too, was invisible.

"I wonder whether he got his horse back, for Dick must have beenstole, the same as was Cap."

And, grateful for having regained possession of his horse, he pattedthe silken neck of the noble animal.

Grizzly's years of experience with cattle apprised him of a gratifyingtruth. The course of the stampeded herd was changing. Instead offleeing away from the main body they were veering around, so that, ifthe change of course continued, they would return to the neighbourhoodfrom which they started.

Panic-smitten cattle are not apt to do a thing of that kind of theirown accord. Some cause, and a strong one, too, must have effected thisdiversion in the line of flight. All at once, above the din, soundedthe penetrating voice of a man, who was striving with herculean energyto change the course of the wild animals.

One sound of that voice was sufficient to identify it as BuddHankinson's. He must have played his cards well to have done all thisin so brief a space of time.

And such had been the case beyond a doubt. Budd suspected from thefirst what did not enter Grizzly's mind until it flashed upon himas described. The fact that neither of their horses appeared whensummoned convinced Budd that they had been stolen. True, even in thatcase they would have obeyed the signal, had they been near enough, andhad the circumstances allowed them to identify it; but, althoughnot far off, the noise immediately around them shut out the call ofGrizzly from their ears, until he repeated it, as has been told.

Hankinson anticipated his friend in this act. In his case, the thiefin the saddle of Dick gave it up at once. He leaped off, and whiskedout of sight. It was then Budd called to Grizzly that the thieves hadtheir horses; but the other did not catch his words, and, therefore,gave them no further heed.

The instant Budd's feet were in the stirrups he set his horse boundingalong the side of the herd, with the purpose of checking the stampedeby changing its course. Grizzly understood matters and set off afterhim, leaving to the sagacious Cap to thread his way to the other sideof the running cattle.

In the course of a few minutes the ranchers opened communication andpushed their work with a vigor which brought good results. The cattlewere tired. They had been on their feet most of the day while grazing,were growing fat, and naturally were indisposed to severe exertion.Their pace dropped to a walk, and sooner than would have beensupposed, the fright passed off. The herders kept them moving untilclose to the main herd, where they were allowed to rest. Budd andGrizzly dismounted once more, turning their horses loose, and seatedthemselves on the ground. The night, as will be remembered, was mild,and they did not need their blankets to make them comfortable.

"Wal," was the smiling remark of Grizzly, as he began refilling hispipe, "my leg didn't deceive me this time."

"No, I'll own up it played square; but, Grizzly, if we've got to fightthe red varmints as well as rustlers, there will be some lively fun inWyoming and Montana before the thing is over."

"The Injins won't take a hand in this. You know who them two thieveswere, don't you?"

"A couple of 'dog Injins,' of course."

"There isn't anybody else that's got anything to do with this; it'ssort of queer--that is, it has struck me so two or three times--thatthe Injins have tramps among 'em the same as white folks. They call'em 'dog Injins,' I s'pose, 'cause they don't claim any particulartribe, but tramp back and forth over the country, slipping off theirreservations whenever they get a chance."

"Yes, there are plenty of 'em," assented Budd; "we've met 'em before;you'll find 'em as far north as the Saskatchewan and as low down asthe Rio Grande. But I say, Grizzly, they were two slick ones; I neverseen finer work."

"Nor me either; if they had been satisfied with taking our hosses we'dnever seen 'em agin. Gracious!" added the rancher, "for myself, I'drather lost half the herd than Cap."

"It seems to me," said Budd, after smoking a moment in silence, "thatalthough them 'dog Injins' was pretty smart in getting out of the waywhen we come down on 'em, they weren't smart in trying to run off thecattle. They must have known we'd find it out at daylight and would beafter 'em hot-footed."

Grizzly had been puzzling over the same phase of the question. The'dog Indian' is a vagabond, who, belonging to some particular tribe,as of necessity must be the case, affiliates with none, but goeswhithersoever his will leads him, provided he is not prevented.Sometimes they remain on the reservation for weeks and months, asorderly, industrious and well-behaved as the best of the red men. Thenthey disappear, and may not turn up for a long time. In truth, theyare as likely not to turn up at all, but to lead their wandering,useless lives just as the vagrants do in civilized communities.

Surely the couple who had played their parts in the incidents of thenight must have known that nothing could be gained by stampeding apart of Whitney's herd. The cattle were branded, and could not bedisposed of for that reason. Besides, a couple of Indians in charge ofseveral hundred cattle would be objects of suspicion themselves, andcertain to be called to account. They could make no common cause withthe rustlers, for the latter would have naught to do with them.

More than likely Grizzly Weber hit the truth when he said:

"It was a piece of pure deviltry on their part. When they got into thesaddles they felt safe. Instead of making off with the hosses, theythought they would stir up a little fun by stampeding the cattle.After injuring 'em by rapid driving for a good many miles they wouldhave paid no more attention to 'em, and let us find 'em as best wecould."

"Yes," assented Budd, "they bit off more'n they could chaw, and solost the hosses. But, Grizzly, have you noticed there's been severalguns shot off around the country to-night?"

"Yas," replied the other, indifferently; "I've heard 'em severaltimes, but I haven't obsarved any coming from the house; it must bethat some of the boys are having fun to-night instead of sleeping likelambs, as they ought to do."

"And there'll be more of it to-morrow, but that's what we've got toexpect at all times. I'm going to sleep; call me when you want me."

Budd spread the blanket, which he had taken from the back of hishorse, on the ground and lay down. Hardly five minutes passed whenhe was wrapped in sound slumber. To prevent himself from becomingunconscious, Grizzly rose and walked slowly around and among the herd.He had no thought of anything further occurring, for the 'dog Indians'would be certain to keep away from that neighbourhood after what hadoccurred. He did not feel easy, however, concerning his friends at theranch. He knew trouble was at hand, and he would have been glad ifthe mother and daughter were removed beyond danger. The sounds ofrifle-firing and the bright glow in the horizon, made by a burningbuilding, confirmed his misgivings as to what a few days or hours weresure to bring forth.

CHAPTER XVI.

AN UNPLEASANT VISIT.

IT will be recalled that during these incidents Monteith Sterry andFred Whitney were sitting at the front of the long, low building,which was the home of the latter, discussing the incidents of thelast day or two, as well as the matter of Whitney removing, withhis family, to the East, in order to prevent any addition to theaffliction they had just suffered.

Besides this, Whitney had turned on his young friend, and impressedupon him that he, too, was incurring unjustifiable risk by remainingin Wyoming during the inflamed state of public feeling. There was muchless excuse in the case of Sterry than of his host. He ought to be athome prosecuting the study of his profession, as his parents wishedhim to do. His health was fully restored, and it cannot be denied thathe was wasting his precious days. He was fond of his father, mother,brothers and sisters, and it would grieve them beyond expression if heshould uselessly sacrifice himself.

"Yes," he replied, "I cannot deny the truth of what you say, Fred. Iought to leave this part of the country."

"Of course; you're not needed; your future has been mapped for you,and it is hard to make up lost time."

"We found that out at the high school," returned Mont, with a lightlaugh; "but the pearl of great price, in a worldly sense, is goodhealth, and I have been repaid in securing it."

"And having secured it, it remains--Mont," added his companionabruptly, but without the slightest change of tone, "don't stop to askme why, but step quickly through the door and into the house, and keepout of sight for a few minutes."

"I understand," said Sterry, obeying without an instant's hesitation.

The prompt, unquestioning compliance with the request of Fred Whitneyshowed that Monteith Sterry understood the reason that it was made ofhim.

The truth was, that during the last few minutes the young men weretalking in front of the house, each descried something suspicious onthe broad plain. They instinctively lowered their voices, and thoughneither made reference to it, both gave more attention to it than totheir own words.

They heard nothing of the tramp of horses, but saw the shadowyfigures of several men hovering on what may be termed the line ofinvisibility. Sometimes they were distinguished quite clearly, andthen seemed to vanish; but the youths could not be mistaken.

A number of persons were out there, not mounted, but on foot, andmoving about, without approaching any closer, for the space of severalminutes. It looked as if they were reconnoitering the house from adistance and debating the best manner of procedure.

The suspicions of the friends were the same. They were rustlerslooking for the inspector.

Mont Sterry would have preferred to stay where he was and have it outwith them, but the circumstances were so peculiar that he could notrefuse to do as his comrade requested.

The cause of Whitney's wish was the abrupt increasing distinctnessof the figures, proof that they had reached a decision and wereapproaching the house.

They speedily came into plain sight, four men, in the garb of cowmen,and they were rustlers beyond question.

Conscious that they were seen, they now advanced directly, as ifcoming from a distance, though the fact that they were on foot showedthat such was not the case.

With feelings which it would be hard to describe, Fred Whitneyrecognized the first as Larch Cadmus, wearing the same whiskers asbefore. Had he been thoughtful enough to disguise his voice the youngman would not have suspected his identity.

The moon had worked around into that quarter of the heavens that itslight shone on the figure of Fred, who rose to his feet, as was hiscustom, and advanced a few paces to meet the newcomers.

"Good evening!" he said. "How happens it that you are afoot at thistime of night?"

"Our horses ain't fur off," replied Cadmus; "the rest of the boysdidn't think it worth while to trouble you."

"What do you mean by troubling me?" asked Fred, though he understoodthe meaning.

"We're on an unpleasant errand," continued Cadmus, acting as thespokesman of the party, the others remaining in the background andmaintaining silence.

"Shall I bring chairs for you? It is so unusually mild to-night thatI am sitting out doors from choice, and I do not wish to disturb mymother and sister, who retired some time ago."

"No, we'll stand," was the curt response. "Whitney, as I suppose itis, are you accustomed to sit out here alone?"

"Not when I can have company."

"Were you alone before we came up?"

"When you were here earlier in the evening, as you saw for yourself, Ihad my sister and a friend."

"Exactly; who was that friend?"

"Mont Sterry, the gentleman who is on a little tour through someparts of Wyoming and Montana to try to help make you fellows behaveyourselves."

"Yes; wal, we're looking for him."

"Why do you come here?"

"Because he spends a good deal of his time here; he seems to beinterested in Miss Whitney."

"Well, if he is, that is no business of yours," retorted Fred, angeredby the reference to his sister.

"Perhaps not, but it would be well for you to keep a civil tongue inyour head, Fred Whitney; we're not in a pleasant mood to-night, forwe've had trouble."

"It matters not to me what trouble you've had; you have no right toname any member of my family. They are in affliction; my father wasshot down by your gang yesterday, and, though we made several of youfellows bite the dust, the whole of them weren't worth his littlefinger."

"We'll let them matters drop; I told you we're looking for MontSterry, and we're going to have him."

"And I ask you again, why do you come here after him? I don't denythat he was with me, but he left fully two hours ago."

"We know that; he gave us the slip, but we believe he came back."

"And I ask what reason you have for such belief; why did he bid usgood-by and ride away? I know that he had not the slightest intentionof returning for several days," said Fred, sticking to the technicaltruth.

"We don't care what his intention was, he did come back."

"How do you know that?"

"He was sitting in that chair alongside of you less than ten minutesago; you were smoking and talking, though you didn't speak loud enoughfor us to catch your words."

"Where is the proof, Larch Cadmus, of what you say?"

Without noticing this penetration of his disguise, the rustler turnedand spoke to the nearest of his companions:

"Spark Holly, how was it?"

"I seen 'em both and heard 'em talking," was the prompt response ofthe individual appealed to.

"Are your eyes better than the others'?" asked Fred.

"They don't have to be," replied Cadmus, speaking for him. "While westayed in front of the house, Spark stole round to the rear, wherenone of your family seen him. He got to the corner and had a good lookat both of you."

"Does he know Sterry?" inquired Fred, purposely raising his voice,that his friend, standing a few feet away within the house, should notmiss a word.

"He don't know him, but I do, and the description Spark gives fits theman we're after to a T. We want him."

"But the notice you gave Sterry allowed him twenty-four hours' grace.Why do you ask for him now?"

"Them was my sentiments, but when I joined the party under Inman, alittle while ago, he told me the boys had reconsidered that matter,and decided that after what Sterry has done, and tried to do, I hadn'tany right to make the promise."

"That may be their decision, but it cannot affect yours; you are boundby the pledge you made in writing to him."

Larch Cadmus, like his companions, was growing impatient. He said:

"I haven't come here to argue the matter with you; I've come after myman, and am going to have him."

"And I repeat what I said: he left more than two hours ago, and youhave no business to come here."

"Do you mean to tell me he isn't in the house?" demanded Cadmus, withrising temper.

"I refuse to answer, but I do say that neither you nor any of yourgang shall enter my home, where are my mother and sister, their heartsstricken by your murderous doings of yesterday, except over my deadbody."

"We don't like to disturb the ladies," said Cadmus, "but we meanbusiness; we have promised the boys to bring back that fellow; butI'll make a proposition."

"What is it?"

"If you will say that Mont Sterry is not in there, we'll go awaywithout disturbing any one; we'll take your word."

"I recognize no right of yours to question me," was the scornful replyof Fred Whitney.

"Boys," said Cadmus, turning again to his companions, "that's onlyanother way of owning up that the coward is hiding here, afraid tomeet us; he's our game."

CHAPTER XVII.

A DELICATE SITUATION.

Few men possessed more courage than Fred Whitney, and he wasthoroughly aroused.

Sitting in front of his own home during the evening, it naturallyhappened that he was without any weapon at immediate command. HisWinchester and revolvers, his inseparable companions, during thosestirring times, whenever away from home, were inside. It need not besaid that every one of the rustlers had his "guns" in his possession,so he was a single, defenceless man against four armed ones.

Nevertheless, he strode forward in front of the open door, determinedto make good his threat.

"You talk of cowards," he said; "you are four, and each has hispistols and rifle; I have none and one arm is wounded, but I defyyou!"

"Come, come," said the leader, "this will do you no good; we're boundto have that man, and if he won't come out we must go after him. Ifyou stand in the way we'll pitch you aside. We don't want to hurtyou."

"Advance at your peril--"

"Fred, move a little to the left--that will do. I've got a bead on himnow."

It was the voice of Mont Sterry, a few feet away, in the darkness ofthe room. The muzzle of his rifle, however, projected just enoughto reflect the moonlight, and it was leveled at the breast of LarchCadmus.

"One step," added Sterry, "and you're a dead man."

"Larch Cadmus," said Fred, thrilled by the occurrence, "for werecognize you despite those whiskers, I never knew Mont Sterry tobreak his word!"

Language cannot do justice to the situation. At the very moment themiscreant was about to advance to hurl Whitney from his path he wasconfronted by the muzzle of a loaded rifle, held by a man who was indeadly earnest, and who realized he was at bay.

The startled ruffian recoiled a step and stared into the darkenedroom, as if he failed to grasp the situation.

"Not a step in any direction," said Sterry, warningly; "if you attemptto retreat, advance, or move aside, I'll fire."

It would be a rash thing for any one to deny that the young inspectorhad secured the "drop" on Larch Cadmus.

But the man was accustomed to violence, and it took him but a minuteto rally.

"Pretty well done, I'll own," he said, with a forced laugh; "but whatgood is it going to do you? There are three more of us here and ahalf-dozen hardly a hundred yards away."

"And what good will they do you?"

"Spark," said Cadmus, "slip back to the boys and give 'em the tip;we'll see about this thing."

"The moment Spark or either of the other two stirs I'll let themoonlight through _you!_ I'm going to keep my gun pointed right atyou, Mr. Cadmus. If those fellows think I'm worth more than you, theyhave a chance to prove it, for only one of them has to take the firststep to leave, when I'll press this trigger just a little harder thannow. More than that, if one of them shouts, whistles, or makes anykind of a signal, I'll do as I threaten. If any man doesn't think so,let him make the trial."

"Well, I'll be hanged!" muttered Larch Cadmus; "this _is_ a go!"

Judging from the new turn of affairs, it looked as if a singleindividual had the "drop" on four others.

It struck Larch Cadmus that this was a good occasion for something inthe nature of a compromise.

"See here, Sterry," he said, assuming an affected jocularity whichdeceived no one, "I'll own you've played it on me mighty fine. But youcan't stand there all night with your Winchester p'inted at me, andbime-by I'll git tired; can't we fix the matter up some way?"

"Fred," said Sterry, with the same coolness shown from the first,"slip through the door; you know where your gun is; stoop a little,so I won't have to shift my aim; when that is done we'll talk aboutcompromise."

Fred Whitney, as quick as his companion to "catch on," did instantlywhat was requested. He dodged into the darkened apartment, with which,of course, he was so familiar that he needed the help of no light tofind his weapon.

Had Larch Cadmus been as subtle as his master, perhaps he might haveprevented this by ordering one of his men to cover Whitney with hisgun, though it is more than probable that Sterry still would haveforced the leading rustler to his own terms.

But there was one among the four with the cunning of a fox; he wasSpark Holly, who had located the inspector when in front of the house.

At the moment Cadmus was brought up all standing, as may be said,Holly stood so far to one side that he was not in the young man'sfield of vision. He, like his two companions, could have slipped offat any moment without danger to himself, but it would have been at thecost of their leader's life; nor could they shift their position andraise a weapon to fire into the room, where there was a prospectof hitting the daring youth at bay, without precipitating thatcatastrophe.

The instant, however, Fred Whitney turned his back on the rustlers,Holly saw his opportunity. He vanished.

The others, more sluggish than he, held their places, dazed,wondering, stupefied, and of no more account than so many logs ofwood.

Shrewd enough to do this clever thing, Spark Holly was too cautious tospoil it by allowing his movement to be observed. Had he darted overthe plain in front of the house, Mont Sterry would have seen thefleeing figure, understood what it meant, and, carrying out histhreat, shot down Larch Cadmus.

Holly lost no time in dodging behind the structure, moving with thestealth of an Indian in the stillness of the night. Then he made acircuit so wide that, as he gradually described a half-circle and cameround to the point whence he had first advanced to the dwelling, hewas so far off that the keenest vision from the interior could notcatch a glimpse of him.

Certain of this, he ran only a short distance, when he came up withthe half-dozen mounted rustlers of whom Cadmus had spoken, and whowere wondering at the unaccountable delay.

The messenger quickly made everything plain, and they straightwayproceeded to take a hand in the business.

CHAPTER XVIII.

A MISCALCULATION.

Larch Cadmus was well fitted to act the leader of so desperate acompany of men. He was chagrined beyond measure at the manner in whichthe tables had been turned on him, but, like all such persons, whencaught fairly, he knew how to accept the situation philosophically.

None understood better than he that the individual who held thatWinchester levelled would press the trigger on the first provocation.He was the one that had sent the warning, and the other was the onethat had received it. The twenty-four hours' truce had been ended bythe words and action of Cadmus himself, and his chief wonder, now thatFred Whitney was with him, was that Monteith Sterry should show anymercy to his persecutor; had the situations been reversed, the coursealso would have been different.

But the ruffian was on the alert. He noticed the guarded movement ofSpark Holly at the moment Whitney entered his home, and he needed noone to tell him what it meant.

He had slipped off to bring help and it would not take him long to doit, though Cadmus might well feel uneasy over what would take placewhen Sterry should learn the trick played on him.

It may be that a person's senses are keener in situations of graveperil than at other times, for, calculating as clearly as he could theperiod it would take his comrade to reach the horsemen, only a shortway back on the prairie, Cadmus heard sounds which indicated theirapproach, though they must remain invisible for several minutes.

"Wal," said he, in his off-hand manner, directly after Whitney hadwhisked into the house, "now that you're together, how long do youmean to keep this thing up?"

"We're through," was the response.

"What do you mean?" asked the surprised fellow.

"You can go away as soon as you please. Mont Sterry doesn't careanything more about you, but I'll keep you covered as long as you arein sight, and if you or any of your men try any deception you'll takethe consequences."

With a moment's hesitation, doubtless caused by distrust of hismaster, Cadmus began edging to one side. A few steps were enough totake him out of range of that dreaded weapon, and then his demeanourchanged.

"That was a good trick of yours, Mont Sterry, but it won't do you abit of good."

"Why not?"

"Here come the rest of the boys, and if you think you can hold themup, why try it."

At that moment the horsemen assumed form in the gloom and approachedthe house in a diagonal direction. Encouraged by their presence, LarchCadmus once more moved toward the open door and resumed the positionof leader.

"Now, my fine fellow, we summon you to surrender," he called in hisbrusquest voice and manner.

The reply was striking. A young man stepped from the door and advancedto meet the horsemen. There was an instant when Cadmus believed hisvictim had come forth to give himself up as commanded, but one glanceshowed that it was Fred Whitney. He calmly awaited the coming of themounted men, saluted them, and said:

"You have come for Mont Sterry, and Cadmus there assures me that ifI give him my word that he is not in my house he will accept thestatement; do you agree to it?"

"How's that, Larch?" asked Ira Inman, turning toward him.

"Them was my words, but--"

"Well, then, I have to say that Mont Sterry is not in my house; theonly persons there are my mother and sister."

"But I seen him, and he got the drop on me--how's that?"

"Yes," replied Whitney, enjoying his triumph, "he was there a fewminutes ago, and he _did_ get the drop on you and the rest of yourfellows; but I took his place; he went out of the back door, mountedhis mare, and if there's any of you that think you can overhaul him,you can't start a moment too soon."

No man who heard these words doubted their truth. They told such astraightforward tale that they could not be questioned. They wouldhave been zanies had they believed that, with the back door at commandand the certain approach of his enemies, Sterry had waited for them toattack him.

True, he and his friend would have held a strong position, in whichthey could have made it warm for the others, but the ultimateadvantage must have been on the side of the assailants.

The laugh was on Cadmus, and those were the men who, in their chagrin,vented their feelings upon him. The worst of it was, he was as angryas they; but he might well ask how he could have helped himself, andwhether any one of them would have done any better.

The foxy Holly, at a whispered word from Inman, darted around the endof the building and entered the stables. A brief examination showedthat no animals, all being known to him, except those belonging toWhitney, were there.

Had any doubt remained, it was removed by his sense of hearing.Without the intervention of the dwelling to obstruct the sound, hecaught the faint, rhythmic beating of the earth, barely audible andgradually growing fainter in the distance. It was just such a sound asis made by a horse going at a leisurely, sweeping gallop, and that wasthe explanation he gave it.

Mont Sterry was safe beyond pursuit, for there was no horse in thecompany that could overtake him. Spark Holly returned to the party infront and made his report.

It may be said the report was accepted and placed on file for futurereference.

It was characteristic of those men, too, that they did not delaytheir own actions, now that their business may be said to have beenfinished.

"Well," said Inman, "that isn't the first time that fellow gave us theslip to-night. The way he did it before was mighty clever, but I don'tsee that he deserves any credit for fooling Cadmus, for any one wouldhave known enough to do that. But remember that Mr. Mont Sterry isstill in Wyoming, and we are not through with him yet."

"And there ain't any twenty-four hours' truce," added Cadmus.

"After what has taken place, there's little fear of Sterry making anymistake on that point," said Whitney, who was so pleased over theoutcome of matters that he could speak in gentler terms than he wouldhave used had the circumstances been different.

It would seem strange that these men, who but a brief time before wereso hostile to the single person now in their power, should conversewithout the least offensive action; but most, if not all, of thedoings of the men concerned in the late troubles in that section werein hot blood, and would not have occurred had time been taken forthought and consideration.

Inman and his brother rustlers wheeled about and rode off in thedirection whence they came. Their movements indicated that they hadno intention of following Sterry, since the course taken by him wasalmost directly the opposite; but Whitney was not fully satisfied. Heremained in front of his home, listening in the stillness of the nightto the sounds made by the hoofs of the galloping horses.

Gradually they grew fainter, until, had there been any air stirring,or had the tension of hearing been less, he would have heard nothing;but, when the noises were hovering close to inaudibility, theycontinued thus. They neither increased nor diminished, but remainingthe same, steadily shifted the direction whence they came.

Instead of keeping to the westward, as they had been for a longtime, they worked around to the north and east. Then the decrease indistinctness of sound was so rapid that it was quickly lost.